Rosemary Rook and the Subplot at Hogwarts
by Remandra
Summary: Rook is an ordinary girl who is matter-of-factly informed that she is a witch and has been accepted into a prestigious school overseas. At school, Rook encounters House rivalries, hilarious gingers, and even gets kidnapped by a raving lunatic! All resulting in delightful gags and shenanigans.
1. Chapter I: A Warm Welcome

Rook examined herself in the tiny bathroom mirror before her. She had just donned her new school uniform, and though she looked very strange to herself, like she was going to a Halloween party at a prep school, or something, she reminded herself that all her fellow students would be wearing an identical uniform, so she would be in good company... regarding clothes, at least.

From what she understood of her situation, however, Rook was very atypical. Her acceptance into this prestigious institution of education had come late. So late, in fact, that there was quite a bit of serious consideration toward turning her away.

But the system of acceptance had never failed them before, and they had little to lose. Finally, as Rook was told, the Headmaster had stood, simply stating, "Her name was written; She must have what it takes."

This was an assertion causing Rook great anxiety at present. Indeed, it had troubled her since she was notified of all this barely over a month ago. And so, every waking moment she had spent attempting to get caught up on four years (yes, _four years_) of schooling.

Rook was once again torn about her decision to attend this school. It was undoubtedly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But Rook had been comfortable at her old school. Here she would be alienated from her peers by the simple fact that they had all been in a class together since they were eleven years old. On top of that, Rook would be spending much of her designated free time getting tutored.

"Suck it up," Rook told herself sternly. "Sleep has been obsolete since the invention of coffee."

Suddenly a horrible thought visited Rook. _They're British! What if they only serve tea?!_

Just as Rook contemplated this, the school train came to a stop, much more suddenly than Rook had expected. She recovered from her inertia and rushed out of the little bathroom, not wanting to fall behind as the train disembarked.

However, as Rook rushed past the first two compartments, the lights on the train flickered out and Rook was plunged into darkness mid-stride.

"Oh dear..." she muttered. She heard commotion in the surrounding compartments that indicated that this was not routine. Rook found herself overcome with unease and hurried along to what was, according to her best guess, her compartment.

"Oof-Poopnuggets! Malerna, is that you?"

Rook had collided with a fellow student who must have been on his or her way out of the compartment. There was laughter at her self-censored obscenity in a corner of the compartment and the student she had so deftly toppled answered, "I'm George-I think you're in the wrong compartment. Here-" He had regained his footing and Rook found his hand in the darkness.

She had just gotten to her feet, however, when a third student ran into her full-force from behind and knocked them _all _to the floor once again. It might have been comical were it not for the definite note of panic in the third student's voice.

"They're coming! Down the corridor, they're-"

But the boy had frozen, and Rook knew why. There was an eerie rattling sound and the air was cold as ice... The feeling of unease turned into dread and she made a tremulous reach for the boy she had run into, Geroge, desperate for reassurance as the fear overcame her. The boy behind her shivered violently, but George clutched her hand in reply, albeit rather tightly.

A fourth student in the compartment muttered, "Lumos," and a very dim light emitted from the tip of his wand, illuminating a frowning face. Rook wanted to keep looking at the light. She willed herself to keep looking at it, but the figure with the rattling breath drew closer and, at the sound of the trembling boy's growing whimpers, she looked around.

Rook's insides seemed to seize with fear, excepting her heart, which threatened to beat out of her chest at the sight of the creature before her. It was a tall, cloaked figure, its face hidden in the shadows of its hood. The place where its face would be was pointed toward the three of them, still on the floor. Rook saw what looked like a thin, scabbed, and rotting hand reach toward a terrified blond boy of about thirteen, the boy who had run into her and George. She lumbered to her feet with great effort, releasing George and attempting to pull this boy away from the foul creature advancing on him. But as she tugged on his robes, darkness descended upon her once more and she was once again falling, falling... A woman's scream rang through the darkness. Rook knew the woman needed help, and no one was coming! Rook had to help, she had to... But where was the woman?

"Just throw some cold pumpkin juice on her. She'll come 'round."

"Fred, this is quite serious!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't have to be, does it?"

"My point exactly! Just trying to lighten the mood a little, Gelly!"

"Don't you start _that_ again! And are you going to eat _all_ my chocolate frogs?"

Rook opened her eyes, never realizing that they had been shut. She first noticed that the train was moving and the lights were back on. She saw in front of her a mischievous-looking, red-haired, and heavily-freckled boy stuffing chocolate into his mouth unabashedly.

"Ith thah uh offah oh a challith?"

Rook's eyes fluttered and landed on the face of a black girl who looked amused in spite of herself at the red-haired boy's antics.

"She's awake!" a third voice announced. The red-haired boy (who Rook assumed to be Fred) swallowed hugely and winked at an utterly bemused Rook.

"What did I tell them?"

Rook blinked and sat up, shaken. "To throw pumpkin juice in my face," she answered. "Not very nice, are you?"

Fred looked back at her with a highly unconvincing expression of innocence. "At least _I_ was trying to wake you up! George was the one who wanted to sell you into slavery on the black market for ten galleons!"

"I never said that!" chimed in an indignant voice from behind Rook's head. "I'd ask for at least a thousand!"

"It hardly matters now, does it?!" Fred shot back before she could even turn to face George. "She's probably caught on to us now!" Fired up with false fury, Fred leaned over and gave Rook a rude rap on the forehead. "If we're lucky, though, she's concussed and doesn't understand a word we're saying!"

"Think of what we could do with a thousand galleons!"

"We can finally get that trebuchet we've always wanted!"

"Enough, you two!" interjected the girl from before. "Poor thing, she's obviously disoriented! If you two had any sensitivity-"

"Sense of what, now?"

The girl chucked a cauldron cake at Fred.

"All right, all right! We'll go get the professor!" Rook turned and watched _two_ red-haired boys exit the compartment. Rook sat upright and noticed a set of scrubby, bunched up robes underneath her head.

"Sorry about them."

A girl Rook had not noticed before spoke in a kind voice. "I'm Alicia. This is Angelina and Lee..." she indicated the black girl and another boy Rook had also overlooked. He smiled in greeting, but his eyes looked tired and worried.

"Well, look at us!" exclaimed Angelina. "We're not usually this dreary. It's those dementors-the things from before-they're _awful,_ aren't they? Anyway, you mentioned Malerna? She's a Slytherin, isn't she...? You have a strange accent. And you look like a fifth year, but I've never met you! Are you in Slytherin?"

"Well, you wouldn't have... I'm from-"

A man appeared in the compartment door, interrupting the conversation. He was a shabby but kind-looking wizard with prematurely graying hair. His eyes found Rook. "Excuse me, but are you the one who-" he started, but Rook cut him off.

"Fainted? Yeah, I'll be the one..." Rook felt herself blush slightly and sighed.

"My name is Professor Lupin," the man replied, smiling sympathetically. "I suppose your friends saw me pass your compartment as I went to speak with the conductor. I told them to come get me when you woke, while I checked the rest of the train for similar cases."

"Where are Fred and George?" Lee asked the professor.

"They met some friends in my compartment. I must say, they seem in better spirits than anyone on the train."

"I think I'll go find them..." Lee nodded at the others as he left.

Lupin took the seat where Lee had been sitting directly across from Rook and withdrew a large portion of chocolate from his robes. He handed all of it to Rook, simply stating, "This will help." He then withdrew and equally large portion and broke it in half to give to Alicia and Angelina.

Rook took a bite of hers, not feeling excessively effusive. The candy seemed to thaw the lingering dread in her stomach. She swallowed and took a slow breath, feeling much better.

"Thank you, sir."

"You're not the only one to pass out, you know."

"I-I wasn't? Who else- I mean, is everyone all right?"

"Yes, he is all right. As much as you are, anyway. I think he felt better that he wasn't the only one affected as you were."

"So it was just the two of us?"

"Yes, though I believe I can safely say we've all been rather rattled."

Alicia shuddered and nodded in adamant confirmation as she finished her chocolate. "Oh, that was the worst. I've never actually seen a dementor before. I've only ever read about them!"

"If you don't mind my asking, Professor, but are you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Angelina inquired curiously.

"That I am and, if I'm not mistaken, I'm not the only new arrival in this compartment." Professor Lupin turned back to Rook. "What a welcome party, eh? Better?"

Rook nodded and even managed a weak smile. "I think I'll be fine here with Angelina and Alicia, if you want to get back to your compartment, sir."

"I think I will, but I'll be in the compartment at the very end if you need me."

The professor left and Rook turned back to Angelina and Alicia, who were eyeing her with interest.

"So... you're new? Like... and exchange student?" Alicia asked. "I've heard of it before, but I never knew of any at Hogwarts!"

"Not quite, I'm-"

"Sorry, but your accent...," Angelina interrupted, "Are you American?"

"Yes, I'm-"

In consistence with the voyage thus far, Rook was interrupted by a fifth year witch with sleek black hair and dark green eyes.

"Rook! There you are! I was worried about you, for fuck's sake!" Angelina cleared her throat loudly at the girl and she greeted them frostily. "Oh, hello Johnson. Spinnet."

"Uh..." Rook noted the increased tension in the compartment and addressed Malerna. "Sorry, Malerna. It was the um-dementors, right? I-I passed out."

"We took care of her, though," Angelina said pointedly.

"Oh, then.. Well, Rook, if you're er... _comfortable_ in here, then..." she looked around the compartment awkwardly, avoiding Angelina and Alicia's eyes. "I guess I'll just..."

"I'll come with you, Malerna," Rook stood and Angelina and Alicia exchanged a eloquent look as Rook turned back to say goodbye. "Thanks, you guys! I'll see you at the feast."

Malerna looked relieved as they proceeded to their compartment, which was surprisingly far off. Rook realized she had run in the complete wrong direction from the bathroom earlier, and was grateful that Malerna had found her.

"What was that all about?" she asked Malerna as they reached their compartment. Malerna's friend Luna was gazing absently out of the stormy window as though watching a riveting television show. Eloise Midgeon looked up at them inquiringly.

"I might have forgotten to mention," Malerna sat beside Luna and picked up her book, "but when you get to Hogwarts, you're sorted into separate Houses. Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet are in Gryffindor House and I'm in Slytherin. Incidentally, there's a notorious rivarly between Gryffindors and Slytherins, to the point where it almost feels like we're obligated to hate each other."

Rook felt uncomfortable. She liked Malerna, but Angelina and Alicia had been so friendly to her. "They seemed nice enough," she said feebly.

Malerna laughed derisively. "I'm sure they are, if you're not in Slytherin. What can you do, though?"

"What if- What if I'm put in Gryffindor?"

Melerna giggled. "No, I don't think you will be. Gryffindors are supposed to be _brave_. Didn't you just faint?"

Rook felt relieved and insulted at the same time. "Hey, I could be brave! Maybe. Okay, I suppose you have a point..."

"I'm in Ravenclaw," Luna offered offhandedly. "_Where those of wit and learning will always find their kind,_" she sang with a fond smile. "Although, I do think _some_ of my Housemates are rather witless."

"Yes, but they _all_ think _you're_ crazy," Malerna teased. "And Eloise here is in Hufflepuff; The House you go to when no other will take you."

Eloise blushed and looked at her hands.

"Oh, Eloise, you know I'm just joking. But you've got to admit, 'hard-working and loyal' _is_ kind of a cop-out, isn't it?"

"And what is Slytherin House, the House for jackasses?" Rook put an arm around Eloise and grinned. "Hufflepuff, eh? The House of Misfit Toys. That'll be me, I think!" Eloise returned her smile.

"Oh, I hope so! That would be fun!"

"Sorry! No fun for me, remember? I'll be too busy studying."

Rook chatted amiably with Malerna, Luna, and Eloise, three girls she could almost call friends, and finally felt confident that she would not regret coming to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	2. Chapter II: Sort Of

Fred and George Weasley climbed the castle steps and entered the Great Hall with Angelina, Alicia, and Lee. They found their seats at the Gryffindor table and Fred noticed George surreptitiously scan the Great Hall for the girl from the train. Fred smirked knowingly and leaned in to speak to him discreetly.

"Angelina and Alicia said she's new, didn't they? She's probably going to be sorted with the first years."

George turned the slightest shade of pink as he examined his empty goblet and said, "She's kind of pretty, isn't she?"

Fred contemplated this idly. George might be right, but Fred was not one to be taken in by looks alone. "Yeah, I suppose," he answered carefully. "I mean, if that's what you're into... You know," he grinned, "_pretty_."

As the last of the returning students settled in, the doors of the Great Hall opened again and Professor McGonagall strode in leading a long line of first years and, at the very end, the girl from the train. She attracted a fair amount of attention as she proceeded along the staff table and turned to face the House tables. She looked largely unconcerned, however, and seemed transfixed by the enchanted ceiling. Fred followed her eyes and watched lightning flash above the Hall magnificently.

"Welcome!"

Fred had been so absorbed with this, he had not noticed that the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had stood and was now addressing them.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have three pre-sorting introductions to make! I am pleased to welcome Miss Rosemary Rook, a fifth year exchange student from the United States who will be spending the remainder of her school years with us at Hogwarts!"

He indicated Rosemary Rook rather needlessly, as the students had easily discerned the fifth year student in the lineup. Rosemary waved politely as the Hall applauded, then returned her attention to the cumulonimbus.

"I would also like to welcome Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Rosemary applauded fervently, along with a handful of Gryffindors who had encountered the professor on the train ride. Everywhere else, a smattering of lukewarm applause met this announcement. The noise died out and Dumbledore continued, "As to our second staff appointment... Well, I'm sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Dumbledore smiled warmly at Hagrid, who was blushing deeply but looked quite pleased with himself. Fred and George cheered loudly. Once the tumult at the Gryffindor table had tapered off, George made an offhand remark, "You think he'll have a harder time of keeping us out of the forest, then?"

"One way to find out, isn't there?"

Not without a few dirty looks in the twins' direction, the caretaker, Argus Filch, placed a three-legged stool between the staff table and the House tables. He then placed a ragged old wizard's hat on top of that. He shuffled out of the way and, finally, Rosemary tore her eyes away from the ceiling to gaze warily at the hat.

Rosemary jumped nervously as a rip above the rim of the hat opened as if to take a deep breath and then burst into song. Fred and George both chuckled and watched as she regained her composure.

_I may not have a proper name_

_Or a body you can hold_

_No claim to fame or great acclaim_

_No, I'm not much to behold_

_But don't let appearance fool you_

_I'm quite essential here, you'll find_

_While the teachers are here to school you_

_I'm here to look inside your mind_

_Based on what I find there_

_Your future home will be assigned_

_Fear not, for I never err_

_You will be with your kind_

_If you are intrepid_

_Or possess boldness of heart_

_You'll find that you are headed_

_For Gryffindor, to start_

_If you are a loyal friend_

_Hard-working, just, and true_

_The House that I would recommend_

_Hufflepuff for you!_

_But what of those with acumen,_

_Precocity, acuity, and wit_

_If you know what I am saying, then_

_With the Ravenclaws you'll sit_

_But perhaps you value cunning,_

_And are known for your ambition_

_Then you will find becoming_

_The House known as Slytherin_

_There will be no retraction_

_You can count on me_

_One-hundred percent satisfaction_

_Is what I guarantee!_

The hat finished its song with many flourishes then returned to its previous state of quietude. Rosemary gaped at it. Whether her expression was of fear or awe, Fred could not say.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and said in a distinct, authoritative voice, "I will read out your names in alphabetical order. When your name is called, you will sit on the stool and place the hat on your head to be sorted. When your House is determined, you will sit at your designated House table."

"Ali, Inara!"

A thin girl with olive skin and bright eyes walked stiffly to the stool and carefully placed the hat over her head as she sat. It fell almost past her nose and she wrung her hands nervously as the hat silently deliberated.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Inara smiled with relief before she tugged the hat off and replaced it to hurry off toward the cheering Ravenclaws. She quickly found her place among them as the next name was called.

Fred started to zone out as the sorting progressed. He automatically cheered his fellow Gryffindors as they were sorted, but did not really start paying attention again until after "Robins, Demelza" had been sorted and seated among them.

"Rook, Rosemary!"

Rosemary's shoes squeaked across the floor as she shuffled over to the stool and settled herself comfortably. She unceremoniously dropped the hat on her head, and though she was much bigger than the first years, it still fell over her eyes so that only a button nose and a toothy smile could be seen of her face.

Rosemary sat there for several minutes, beyond the average sorting time. If she was worried by this, however, it did not show. Her foot kicked a little, and a little squeak accompanied its movement as she patiently awaited the hat's verdict. Fred exchanged a look with George and wondered if George had his fingers crossed under the table.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"_Yes!_" George exclaimed excitedly as they hailed the new arrival. The twins tried to catch her eye as she sat down, but she simply made for the closest seat available, in between Neville Longbottom and their sister, Ginny Weasley.

Gradually the sorting came to an end. At last, a boy named Frank Whittle was sorted into Hufflepuff and, following a very grave announcement regarding the dementors that Fred all but ignored completely, Dumbledore invited the Hall to begin their glorious feast.


	3. Chapter III: Food, Fred, and George

Rook eyed the foreign dishes before her dubiously. There were copious amounts of meat she had never before encountered and had not previously considered to be edible, such as steak and kidney pie, blood pudding, and jellied eels. If she were being entirely honest with herself, she _still _would not consider many of these things to be edible, despite their being devoured before her eyes. Feeling somewhat squeamish, Rook helped herself to any vegetables she could locate and thought longingly of vegetarian curry and tofu.

Rook looked over at the Slytherin table at Malerna conversing with a pointed-faced blond boy beside her. Rook recognized him as the terror-stricken boy who had run into her on the Hogwarts Express. He looked as though he had recovered, and seemed to be giving an animated retelling of their encounter with the dementors, miming his collapse on the train. Her eyes drifted elsewhere about the Great Hall and fell upon an Adonis at the teachers' table. A paragon of what Rook could hardly believe was human, his eyes were velvety dark and mesmerizing, his black hair flowed gently to his broad, masculine shoulders, each perfect lock gleaming beautifully in the candlelight. He seemed uninterested in the feast and merely glared conspicuously at fellow staff member Professor Lupin. His expression was nothing short of murderous.

"Hey," Rook nudged the boy next to her. "Who's that teacher with the black hair and… nose situation?" The boy looked up from a forkful of peas and minced meat at the indicated teacher and shivered.

"Th-that?" he squeaked. "That's the potions master, Professor Snape… I don't like him. No Gryffindors do."

"The feeling is mutual," interjected a sandy-haired boy sitting across from them. "He takes points off our house at any and every opportunity."

Rook turned back toward the round-faced boy, but instead met the familiar-looking face of a red-haired boy in his place. "Oh!" she exclaimed, staggering at his alarmingly vast grin.

"'Allo! Didja miss me?"

"What are you…?" asked Rook hesitantly. "Uh… do I know you?"

"Didn't I see you on the train?"

"Um, did I see _you?_"

"I thought I made an impression, yeah…" the boy said, clearly disappointed.

"Oh!" Rook exclaimed. "Fred! You look _just_ like Fred from the train! But... Did you somehow get, um... better-looking since the train ride?"

The boy laughed, then spoke to the student on Rook's other side. "Wow, I _like_ this girl!"

Rook turned and jumped, thoroughly startled by the appearance of an identical red-haired boy where a red-haired second year girl had been sitting. Rook was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the sheer amount of gingers at one table.

"George, you great git!" snapped Fred, distinctly irked. "You screwed up the joke!"

"It's not my fault my rugged good looks give me away."

"She's obviously confused about something! Everyone knows _I'm_ the good-looking one."

"No, I think I got this," Rook interjected. Rook's eyes traveled between the two boys comprehendingly and she tapped her temple with an air of great importance as she continued, "I am quite the detective, you know. Twins?"

"You can tell us apart?" asked Fred, somewhat suspiciously.

"Can't you?"

"With extensive analysis of context clues, we usually manage well enough," Fred answered.

"Yes, Fred and I are not amateurs when it comes to detection, either!"

"So, y'all are gingers _and_ twins," Rook observed with a smirk. "You're a couple of real freaks, aren't you?"

"Hmmm, wouldn't _you_ like to know?" Fred and George replied in unison, identical smug expressions aimed at her. Rook giggled.

"We may or may not work for the Devil," Fred winked.

"Any good benefits to that gig? I've been thinking about a part-time job."

"How about the benefit of my company?" answered Fred flirtatiously.

"Hey!"

"Oh, all right-_our _company."

Rook gave Fred an appraising look. "Anything else?" she said at last, looking away with caricatural indifference.

George clutched his chest melodramatically as Fred shivered and said, "That was _cold,_ Rosemary."

Rook winced. "Please don't call me Rosemary..."

"What should we call you, then?"

"Parsley?"

"Sage?"

Rook laughed again, noticing she had been doing a lot of that. "I like to go by my last name," she explained.

"'Rook'?"

Rook nodded.

"How dreadful," said Fred. "Don't they eat carrion?"

"Sounds like a foul fowl," quipped George, lifting his eyebrows at Rook in such an absurd expression, Rook snorted with laughter as she went to drink her pumpkin juice.

"Don't give me _that! _You guys eat _this_ stuff!" Rook spluttered indignantly, indicating the dish before them. "What's _in _this, anyway?"

"Ooh, faggots!" exclaimed Fred in delight, pulling the whole dish toward him and using Rook's fork to shovel the mystery meat into his mouth.

"Pig's heart, liver and fatty belly meat, I think," answered George, still laughing at Rook's unintentional brush with death by drowning in pumpkin juice. "You need a life saver?"

"And you think carrion is gross?" Rook rolled her eyes. "And you laugh now, but drowning is the third leading cause of unintentional injury or death worldwide!"

"I'm dead serious, Rook," Fred contributed soberly, "I mean, if you need mouth-to-mouth or-"

"After shoving pig hearts and livers into your mouth? I'd rather drown, thanks."

"Fair enough." George smiled back at Rook, his brown eyes twinkling.

There was a brief lull in conversation as George and Rook's eyes met. Rook looked away shyly. "I have one, you know," she plowed on determinedly. "A rook, I mean. I got Mahakala instead of an owl. And she's as brilliant as any owl!" added Rook, a bit defensively.

"Then how come you've missed our birthday for the last fifteen years then, eh?" Fred interrupted obtrusively. "Either you or Machakalaka has been dropping the quaffle."

"I'll do better next time, sir," Rook responded with a little salute. "By the way, when _is_ y'all's birthday? I know, but I want to make sure _you_ know, you know?"

"April first," they answered together. "Yours?"

"That's a tough one," she said, only half joking. Rook did _not_ know when she was born, as she was adopted. Her biological mother had left her on the doorstep of a children's shelter in Houston when she was about five years old, and she remembered _nothing_ about her mother or her life before she was taken in as a ward of the state. Increasingly, Rook wondered about her biological parents, and one of the primary reasons she had abandoned her comfortable life with her adoptive family in the United States was to find a magical means to retrieve her early childhood memories. Was her mother a witch? Was her father a wizard? Were they from the United Kingdom originally? Is that why she had been accepted at Hogwarts?

This, however, did not seem like the time to try to explain why she did not know her exact birthday. Besides, Rook still celebrated her birthday. Her adoptive mother had a biological daughter, Artemisia, who happened to be born exactly five years prior to the day Rook was found at the door of the shelter. Sia and Rook celebrated their birthdays together on December twenty-fourth and, although they looked vastly different, Rook thought of Sia as her twin sister.

"Come on, Rook," George wheedled. "We told you ours. You have to tell us yours. It's the rules."

"Yeah, how are you supposed to give us presents for your birthday if you don't remember when it is?"

"Excuse me? When do I get presents, then?"

"Tsk! Can you believe this one? She has a lot to learn about our traditions!"

"You're lucky you've got us!" Fred put his arm around Rook forwardly. This annoyed her. She did not like to be touched without giving consent. George looked as miffed by his brother's advances as Rook felt.

"Then why do I feel as though I just caught something nasty?" she asked coolly, slinking away from Fred. He frowned.

"I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with those Slytherins you were hanging out with." To Rook's relief, Fred withdrew his arm. "I wouldn't know what you do in your spare time with Slytherins, but I'd imagine you're bound to catch something. George, do you want to go back to our seats?"

"Not really, no."

Fred's displeasure seemed to be escalating. "Come _on,_" he insisted.

"You're not conjoined. George can sit where he likes."

"Why are you being so uptight, Rook? We were having a good time and you have to get all serious."

"I'm still having a good time," Rook shrugged. "Sounds like a you problem."

Just then the mostly-consumed main courses were replaced with desserts. Rook dished out a bowl of raspberry ripple ice cream, dribbled cherries jubilee over it and topped off the confection with cookie crumbs and walnuts. She pushed it toward Fred and held out a spoon.

"Peace offering? I'm sorry I got 'all serious'. I vow to leave a buffer of utter absurdity from this point onward."

"No thanks. I'm allergic to nuts."

"That's funny, because I'm not," George informed Rook. "I'll have it, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," said Rook kindly.

Rook and George continued to talk and joke until the desserts disappeared. Fred remained beside them, but was resolutely petulant and sullen, and, when they were released to their common rooms, Fred dragged George out of sight while Rook searched the crowd for Malerna.

Rook caught up with Malerna, who looked uncomfortable at being approached. Several Slytherins shot Rook contemptuous looks as she passed. "Hey! Looks like I'm Gryffindor after all," Rook grinned. "Does that mean you have to disown me?"

Malerna smiled lamely. "Don't take this the wrong way, Rook, but I'm going to the Slytherin common room, and you're not supposed to know where that is, so..."

"Oh... Oh, right," Rook faltered. "Okay. Well, I'll see you around?"

"Don't you need to go with the first years to the Gryffindor common room? You should go."

Malerna rushed off to join a group of Slytherins who leered at Rook as she turned to find her fellow Gryffindors across the Great Hall.

But by the time Rook had fought the crowd to the other end of the Hall, she had already lost them.


	4. Chapter IV: Pudding

Fred was annoyed. Whether with himself or with Rook, he was not certain.

He really had been worried about her, when they were on the train. When the lights had come back on, George had been holding her tightly as she thrashed, her expression alarmingly distressed.

As a person who rarely wasted effort on taking anything seriously, Fred was somewhat thrown by his intense concern for Rook. He had helped his brother lay her down when she became fairly still and even pulled out a set of his own robes to place carefully beneath her head while his friends marveled at his consideration, for he was hardly known for it.

And now she probably thought he was an overbearing arse.

"So what's with the attitude?" George broke into his reverie. "You were kind of rude to her."

"You don't think she was rude to _me?_ And since when are you so fussed about being polite, _Percy?_"

"I just think you came on a little strong. I mean, she's new to this school and this country. That's overwhelming enough without someone as... er... _exuberant_ as you hitting on her."

"I wasn't _hitting _on her!"

George knit his brows. "You could've fooled me."

Fred felt his face heat up. "I was just joking around!" he insisted. "And then she had to go call us 'nasty'-"

"It seemed to me like she was joking too."

"It's different."

"I see. So you can dish it out, but you can't take it."

"I can too take it! I'll take all of it!"

"So what's the problem? I think she's funny."

"Well, it's-I mean, I was barely serving her appetizers and she's already shoving puddings in my face!"

"You've never been one to complain about pudding before," George chuckled.

"Are you calling me rotund?"

"I'm just saying... If _you_ don't want Rook's pudding, I will be happy to take it off your hands."

"So much for solidarity," Fred grumbled.

"Like I said," George shrugged, "_I_ like her."

"Yeah, yeah... Are we gonna do this, or what?"

Fred and George broke away from the rest of the Gryffindors and ducked behind a statue of Boris the Bewildered. After casting a few furtive glances around the corridor, Fred withdrew a timeworn piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes. George tapped it lightly with his wand and murmured, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

From the point where George's wand had touched the parchment, thin, spidery lines of ink spread across the surface, slowly forming an daedal map of Hogwarts castle and its grounds.

Fred and George grinned at each other. In their hands was the Marauder's Map, an invaluable treasure they had stolen from Filch in their first year at Hogwarts.

Fred and George's first year at Hogwarts had defined them as the "tricksters" of their family. In fact, on their first _day_ at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Fred and George thought that simply going to sleep would be an anticlimactic end to an exciting day of riding the train, sorting, and feasting. So they did not go to sleep. Instead they spent their first night at Hogwarts exploring the castle grounds.

They had started by sneaking down to the Quidditch pitch and picking the lock on the broom shed. They stole two broomsticks and raced each other through the Forbidden Forest, until they had managed to upset a rather large nest of spiders within its depths. Very fortunately, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid, discovered them and rescued them from a most untimely death.

As he dragged them back to the castle, the large, hairy gamekeeper assured them that they were in very, very deep trouble, placing particular emphasis on the fact that they had broken _seven school rules before sunrise_. After much pleading and a combination of fake and genuine tears, Hagrid at last agreed not to turn them in to Professor McGonagall on the condition that they helped him train his new dog, Fluffy.

This incident began a tradition the twins had dubbed "Seven Before Sunrise". They vowed that they would launch each new school year by breaking seven school rules before the sun rose, or else what was the point of even coming back?

Fred and George examined the Marauder's Map carefully, their eyes following tiny moving dots, labeled with the names of every individual in Hogwarts Castle. They watched as the dot labeled "Argus Filch" made his final rounds before retiring to his office with his cat, Mrs. Norris.

"Oh, bloody Hell... What's _she _doing?"

Fred's eyes had found a small dot labeled "Rosemary Rook", wandering the West Wing aimlessly, frequently stopping and changing direction, as though...

"Is she _lost?_"

George smiled wryly at Fred. "I think this is something to be taken advantage of."

Fred's jaw dropped. "Are you _serious?!_ Wait, wait... Are you suggesting that we bring her along for Seven Before Sunrise?"

"That was my line of thinking, yeah."

"Absolutely not. No. No, we-"

"We might as well see if she's interested! It'll be_ fun_, Fred!"

Fred sighed with frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's always been you and me, George. It's _our_ thing, okay? Maybe she's cool. Maybe she's even... a little funny," Fred added begrudgingly in a rushed voice, "BUT... I mean-It's just... You know?"

"No," George said decisively. "You always call the shots. I propose a challenge. If she agrees to it, if she breaks seven school rules of our choosing before the sun rises... she is our new best friend, officially. If not, you won't hear another word about her. Not from me, anyway."

"Really? _'Best friend'?_ What are we, five?"

Honestly, the proposition was a win-win. If Rook rose to the occasion, they will have gained a befitting ally. But Fred was not about to admit this so casually. He was still on the fence regarding Rosemary Rook, and would remain there until she provided definitive evidence of her merit.

"All right," agreed Fred at last. "Let's see what she's made of."


	5. Chapter V: A Modest Proposal

Rook collapsed against a cold stone wall across from a painting of an emaciated horse chewing on a bright red violin. Rook stared at it despairingly. In retrospect, she really ought to have asked one of the teachers for directions back in the Great Hall, but... she was embarrassed. After all the fuss made over her late admission, she could not bring herself to approach a teacher and admit to such a stupid mistake. Unfortunately, the alternative was feeling worse by the minute.

She had not been sitting long, however, when she heard distant, muffled footsteps approaching her. Rook scrambled to her feet and strained her ears, listening carefully as the sounds grew gradually louder.

Fred and George appeared from behind a tapestry Rook had thought to be draped over solid wall. George held a finger over his lips and motioned silently for Rook to join them behind the tapestry. Rook obliged, hardly believing her luck.

The secret passageway was dark and cramped, but Fred's wand illuminated a piece of parchment he determinedly shielded from Rook's purview as he consulted it carefully. Rook said nothing, heeding George's earlier gesture, correctly guessing that students were not exactly allowed to wander the castle at this late hour.

"All right, Rook?" George whispered, smiling down at her. He and Fred were not particularly tall, but at such close proximity, George seemed to tower over Rook. Rook nodded in reply, thankful for the semidarkness that concealed the pink tinge in her cheeks. "Lost?"

"How did you-?"

"The library is clear," said Fred, looking up. "Let's go, then."

With absolutely no explanation, Fred and George guided Rook to a massive library, Fred leading the way with his, apparently fascinating, bit of old parchment. Once they were safely concealed in a shadowy corner of the deserted library, the twins began explaining themselves in hushed voices.

"We noticed you in the corridor on our way to the library and we thought you might be interested in a little game."

The twins presented an immense volume to Rook who examined it in the low light of Fred's wand, which remained lit.

"'School Rules'?" she read the cover questioningly.

"If you're willing, we would like to challenge you to break seven school rules-"

"-of our choosing-"

"-before sunrise," the twins spoke in unison, as they seemed prone to do. Rook acknowledged her growing fondness for them.

"That's the game?"

"It's more of a tradition, really," Fred amended. "But George thought you might be a good sport, so..."

"You said you just saw me on your way to the library," said Rook, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And what is that?" She pointed at the parchment in Fred's hand and he hastily folded it and tucked it away into his robes.

"It's a sort of... tool of our trade," George answered vaguely. "If you win, we'll show you."

Fred looked as though he wanted to protest, but was reluctant to discuss the matter before a third party.

Rook considered the twins' challenge. There were so many reasons this "game" was ill-advised, not counting the seven rules she would have to break. She barely knew these boys. On top of that, their hair was the color of danger in every safety manual she had encountered, and of violins horses eat in Surrealist paintings. Still, Rook found herself intrigued in spite of her better judgment.

"Okay." Rook sank to the floor and heaved the Hogwarts rule book into her lap. "What kinds of rules are we talking about?"

George took a seat at Rook's side and peered over her shoulder as she cracked the volume.

"Well, they have to be rules he haven't broken before," said Fred.

"Then this one won't do," George pointed at the book as it lay in Rook's lap. Rook was beginning to suspect that Fred and George did not place much stock in the concept of personal space. "'It is against school rules to impersonate a prefect.' We impersonate Percy all the time."

"Percy?"

"Our brother," Fred rolled his eyes. "Percy the Perfect Prefect."

"Percy the Prancing Prat."

"Percy the Pickled Piper Pooping Pies of Plump Peppers," Rook joined in.

"What?"

"Sorry... I-I thought we were doing alliteration. I got carried away."

Fred kneeled before Rook and looked her dead in the eye. "Are you serious?" he whispered softly, his expression inscrutable.

Taken aback though she was at Fred's sudden propinquity, Rook matched his deadpan tone and replied, "Almost never."

Fred scrutinized her carefully, but Rook neither broke eye-contact nor changed her expression.

"In that case..." Fred's face broke into a wide grin as he whisked the rule book out of Rook's lap. "I think I've got our first 'challenge'." Fred stood rod-straight and read aloud in a comically official voice, "'No student shall be allowed to toboggan down any spiral staircase within Hogwarts Castle.'"

Rook blinked. "Wait-_toboggan?_"

"That's what it says."

"_Genius,_" Rook murmured, imagining herself climbing to the topmost level of Hogwarts Castle and taking each staircase by toboggan.

"Now you pick one for us-"

"We'll tell you if we've done it."

Rook accepted the proffered book from Fred and flipped through the pages until she found something interesting. She cleared her throat and read, "'Neither students nor staff members shall be allowed to kiss or caress the grotesque guarding the Headmaster's office."

"Grotesque?" said George, confused.

"Like a gargoyle-" Fred and Rook spoke in unison and he stopped short, glaring at her as though she had tricked him.

"What else have we got?" Fred changed the subject irritably.

The three of them spent the next hour perusing the Hogwarts rule book, which was longer than any Rook had ever seen, owing to Hogwarts's antiquity as well as various factors such as magic, environment, and adolescent hormones. Multiple times Rook and the twins lost control of their volume, forgetting that it was the middle of the night and reticence was a must.

"No way! Fred, check this out! 'Students are henceforth prohibited from practicing engorgement charms on inhabitants of Black Lake.'"

"You reckon that's how the giant squid happened?"

"There's a giant squid in the lake?!" Rook exclaimed.

"Maybe the ghosts know more about that. Speaking of ghosts, 'It is against the rules to gloatingly play the bagpipes in front of any of the Hogwarts ghosts.' And apparently it's against the rules to er... make a pass at a Professor."

"Is that so?"

"That's not surprising," said Rook.

Fred and George exchanged an impish look and turned back to Rook. "Not _surprising_, no..."

"'Scuse us," said Fred, turning George away from Rook and whispering so quietly, Rook only caught snippets of their consultation.

"...yes, but who? Binns?"

"Nah, nothing phases him. I think..."

"What? No, much too likable... but maybe..."

"Perfect!"

The twins turned back to Rook, their expressions wicked.

"_You_ have to write a love letter to Professor Snape. We're going to watch you write it _and_ slide it under his office door."

Rook was dumbstruck. "_What?!_"

"Don't tell me you're calling it quits already, Rook?" Fred smirked.

"'Course not!" Rook assured him emphatically. She was not sure why she was already so invested in the twins' game. She supposed simply because she liked them so much and it seemed meaningful to them.

"Then that tallies up our rules to break to an equal seven versus seven."

"Not _really_-I mean, _I _ have seven, but you have three and a half between the two of you."

"Then you should have brought _your_ twin, shouldn't you?" George teased. Rook had told them about her adoptive muggle family and her sister, Sia, who could not attend Hogwarts.

"_What_ was I thinking? Oh well. Guess I had better start on that letter."

Rook found spare parchment and quills set aside for students to take notes during the day and set to work. After about two drafts, she had perfected the note and presented it for the twins' review.

_Dearest Professor Snape,_

_From the moment I laid my eyes upon you, I was smitten. Your hair flows as gloriously as the tresses of some ancient and all-powerful God of Virility. Your eyes contain unfathomable depths, sweeping me off to realms I never knew existed until the moment you entered my life._

_Let my words, inadequate as they may be to describe your endless majesty, reach your heart and rest in your soul until the day you realize that you and I were always meant to be together, until the end of time._

_Passionately Yours,_

_Rosemary Rook_

Fred and George collapsed in a fit of laughter upon examining the heartfelt missive.

"This is too good!"

Once they had recovered somewhat, Fred spoke, "You don't have to use your real name, though. Let's give you an alias." Fred eyed her with what seemed to be mounting approval. "Can't have you expelled before you even go to a class."

"Or worse-Snape falling for you."

Rook blushed vividly this time and quickly busied herself with the parchment in an effort to hide her face. She pondered for a moment and then signed:

_Corvus Frugilegus_

She admired her handiwork for a moment, then stood.

"Let's do this thing."


	6. Chapter VI: How Do You Like Me Now?

Before the trio left the library, Fred brought out the Marauder's Map to verify that Filch was still way out of their way. He traced their projected path and found that, although Filch was currently preoccupied in his office, Snape was positioned most inconveniently for the task at hand.

"We've got a problem. Snape's in his office. If you slide it under his door, we're bound to get caught."

"We could carry on and then get back to the letter after he's gone to bed," George suggested.

Rook pondered. "What about his classroom? Can I leave it in his desk in his classroom?"

"It would be risky," said George with the slightest trepidation. "Snape's office is just off the classroom."

"I can be sneaky," Rook assured.

"That's the spirit!"

Fred and George led Rook down a cold stone staircase and to the door of the potions classroom. None of them spoke, but George pat her shoulder encouragingly and Fred winked at her. Fred watched as Rook, quite suddenly, removed her shoes and socks, laying them neatly against the wall outside the classroom.

"For additional sneakiness," Rook whispered, smiling roguishly. She looked more excited than nervous, and she was... cute. Fred made an awkward show of preoccupying himself with the map until Rook had turned away again. Rook took no notice, but George raised his eyebrows at Fred questioningly.

Rook was completely silent as she crept carefully into the classroom. Fred watched her fade into the shadowy darkness, so quiet she may have vanished entirely.

Once he had closed the door softly, George turned to Fred and murmured, "What do you think?"

"She's too quiet, so it's too easy," Fred grumbled. "If she can be that quiet, it's boring."

"You _want_ her to get caught?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "She's not _going_ to get caught. I mean, listen," Fred nudged the door open slightly and they strained their ears for sounds of Rook within, to no avail. "That's my point. If there's no risk, it's _boring._"

Just then Rook hurtled out of the classroom and whispered frantically, "_Run!_" as she gathered her shoes and shot off up the dungeon steps barefoot. Fred and George ran after her. "I tried to enchant the letter so that it sings, but, well, I accidentally turned it into a howler and it's about to detonate outside Snape's office!"

"_What?!_"

They ducked into a broom closet just off the Great Hall and waited with baited breath for Rook's letter to start shrieking insincere proclamations of adoration for all the castle to hear... but nothing happened. To Fred's great irritation, he noticed the shadowy outline of Rook whisper something to George and they both dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"I heard you call me 'boring'."

Fred narrowed his eyes at Rook. "Wait a minute... It's not a howler?"

"Of course it's not! Don't tell me you think I'm dull _and _stupid?"

"She got you, mate!" said George, still laughing.

"Oh, shut up! It's not _that_ funny. And you!" Fred rounded on Rook. "I didn't call you _boring_, okay? I just said it's boring if it's too easy. _Lumos._" The small space was suffused with soft light from Fred's wand. He looked Rook in eye. "_Okay?_"

Rook nodded, trying not to laugh at Fred's intense expression.

"Okay. Honestly, woman, you're making me feel like a cad. Let's keep it simple. I like you. I assume you like me because, hey, what's not to like?"

George cleared his throat. "Moving on..."

"Right. Before we go on, if there's one thing I've learned from this game, it's that these rules were written for a reason."

George nodded. "Fred's going to snog a gargoyle. It could be that's against the rules because the gargoyle claws out the eyes of anyone who defiles it, or something along those lines."

"_Deities of Djibouti!_ Do you think that's likely?" said Rook.

"We don't know. That's my point."

For the first time, Rook looked exceedingly uneasy. "What do we do if it attacks him?"

"It won't attack me."

"But it's good to be prepared," said George.

"If anything happens, George here can stay and help me."

"And you can run off to the hospital wing for Madame Pomfrey, if it's _that_ bad."

"You can even say you came upon us on your way to the loo, if it's _your_ hide you're concerned about," Fred added.

Rook glared in the wand light, clearly offended by Fred's measured implication. "But where is the hospital wing?" asked Rook, trying to keep her voice casual and failing.

Fred smiled, feeling an odd sense of triumph at Rook's apparent concern. "Are you that worried about me?"

Rook answered with an evasive shrug and Fred's smile turned into a mocking grin. "You _do_ like me, then?"

"Yeah, right!" Rook snapped. "I don't want you getting your eyes ripped out, so I must be president of the Freddy Fan Club! _Please_..."

"Thing is, Rook, we've been breaking rules 'round here for four years. This castle is alive. If you poke and prod it, it's bound to poke back occasionally."

"But it's still a school," said George bracingly. "Ickle Freddiekins will be fine."

"I don't know," sighed Fred, switching tactics. "We really should have a backup plan, but if Rook here doesn't care for me either way, I suppose we'll just have to take our chances. If anything happens to me, take my things and tell mum that I love her."

"You were just saying it's not going to attack you!" Rook exclaimed.

"I was just trying to make you feel better. I'm the caring sort, unlike you."

"Er- Fred?"

Rook snorted. "Who do you think you're fooling? I just met you and I can tell that's a heap of _bos taurus feces_."

"Rook-"

"Why do you talk like that? It's _weird_."

"Why do you keep criticizing me?!"

_"Just say you like me already!"_

_"Of course I like you!"_

Fred felt briefly sated by this admission, and felt this sensation of pleasurable satisfaction overcome him before he abruptly remembered where he was, what he was doing, and who accompanied him.

"If you two are quite finished," George interjected forcefully. "I suggest you cease with the _shouting match_ and check to see if anyone heard you? And you may as well show her, Fred."

"Right-" Fred muttered, unusually nettled by George's input. He rustled around in the small space, careful not to brush Rook while simultaneously noting that George was taking no such precaution. He extracted the map and proceeded to examine it, reining in his thoughts with some difficulty. "You can calm your nancies, George; No one's heard us. Here," Fred held the parchment out to Rook impatiently, "This is _us_, that's the hospital wing. Got it?"

Rook drew neared to Fred for a better look at the map. Fred shifted uncomfortably. "Wow... Those dots... They show everyone?"

"Wait a minute, Fred... That's the secret of our success! Shouldn't there be a little more pomp and circumstance?"

"No time, adjacent brother! She'll just have to experience it herself."

"I suppose that works just as well."

Fred tucked the map away and made to open the door. "Here we go again..."


	7. Chapter VII: Seven Before Sunrise

"Wait a minute, Rook-You have to jump over that one."

Rook paused mid-step as she followed Fred's red hair through the semidarkness. George had stopped her just in time, holding her shoulder gently as he spoke. Still, Rook lost her balance momentarily, pulling back her foot and stumbling slightly. George steadied her, preventing her fall with surprisingly powerful arms.

"S-sorry..." Rook apologized bashfully, jumping the indicated step and continuing up the stairs. "What's wrong with that step?"

"It'll eat your foot," George answered casually.

"Wait, you mean, like, _literally?_" Rook asked, feeling nothing would surprise her at this point.

George laughed. "No, no... You'll just get stuck there for a while. I mean, I could pull you out again, but it's a bother."

"You're, um... You're pretty strong. Are you some kind of athlete?" Rook was blushing violently, she knew, but she tried to play it off. It did not seem to be effective, however. Rook could see a smug sort of smile on George's face as he replied.

"Very astute, Miss Rook. Fred and I are Beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Beaters?" Rook pondered this, forcibly reminded of the broken down 1963 Ford van one of her foster parents had used to drop her at school at four in the morning for an entire year. "What-"

"We can tell you about it later," Fred whispered. "Right now we ought to keep conversation to a minimum. This is it, by the way."

They were at the corner of two intersecting passageways, pausing at a pedestal supporting a formidable stone column. From behind it they could just see the entrance to Dumbledore's office, guarded by an unmoving granite gargoyle.

"This is it, I guess." Fred ran his fingers through his hair, checked his breath and smoothed out his robes, making no real impact on them whatsoever. He then turned on his heel to face his brother and Rook, with an air of exhibition. "How do I look? Debonair?"

"I've never seen anything quite as handsome, unless we're counting mirrors," said George.

"Such charming modesty."

"Now, Miss Rook, sarcasm is so gauche," Fred retorted, sticking a finger through a frayed hole in his school robes. "Let us try for a touch of class, shall we?"

Rook blew a raspberry in response.

"All right, here goes... Yoo-hoo!" Fred sauntered along the corridor, swishing his hips seductively and batting his eyelashes. Rook giggled and George wolf-whistled as Fred licked his upper lip suggestively. Rook had to admit there was something highly likable about Fred's willingness to look utterly ridiculous. He hiked up his robes a little, pulling them tight about his rear in a rather feminine fashion, and approached the gargoyle. He caressed its face lovingly as he spoke. "Hey there, big boy. You're looking mighty fine tonight. Do you mind if I...?"

Through all of this, the gargoyle remained motionless, but Fred did not stop there. He kissed the cold stone tenderly and, to his alarm, felt the gargoyle's arms close tightly around him as he did so. He cried out, but his voice was muffled by the gargoyle's mouth. The gargoyle was kissing him back!

As Fred struggled against the embrace of the grotesque sculpture, Rook rushed past the rococo column concealing her and George, agitated by the scene before them. "Fred, are you all right?" she asked anxiously, before she could stop herself.

The gargoyle released Fred, who gasped for air, and glared at Rook. "Excuse you," it spoke waspishly. "He and I are _clearly_ having a moment, and _you_ are intruding."

Rook took a step backward, passively pondering whether the gargoyle was able to leave its niche. The gargoyle resumed its smothering and Fred's eyes pleaded with Rook as she watched.

"That's a problem... He's _my _boyfriend," Rook improvised in what she hoped was an assertive tone. Fred's eyes widened in mute surprise and the gargoyle glared at Rook disdainfully, lips still glued to Fred's face.

"You? _Really?_" the gargoyle replied at last, voice dripping with incredulity.

"Y-yes?" Rook faltered self-consciously.

The gargoyle turned on Fred, who was still gaping at Rook. "Is this true?!" it demanded of him.

"Ah... er... Yeah, yeah... That's my... er... girlfriend," he answered, flustered.

The gargoyle's expression was stony, in every sense. Fred eyed it nervously. He tried pulling away, but it was impossible to escape the statue's grip. A moment later, though, there was no need. The gargoyle threw Fred from it.

"You two-timing scum!" it all but wailed.

"Shhhh... Calm down!" Fred attempted to console the gargoyle from a safe distance.

"George, you scoundrel!"

The three of them looked around at George, who had appeared from behind the column to join the ad-libbed drama.

"To think that my own twin brother would betray me like this!" he put an arm around Rook. "You thought you could pose as me to steal my girlfriend, did you? All to get me back for the Curwhibble Incident!"

"I would have gotten away with it, if I hadn't fallen in love with this, er..." Fred gestured to the gargoyle, "...beautiful creature."

The gargoyle swooned. "I love you too, Fred!" it cried.

"He's not Fred, I am!" George protested, then turned to Rook. "Of course, I don't blame you, Rosey. I should have told you about my evil twin!"

"That is a bit harsh, don't you think?" said Rook fairly. "He doesn't even have a handlebar mustache."

"My mildly irksome twin, then."

"Way to add insult to injury, you wank biscuit!"

"_Shhh!_"

A grinding sound emitted from beyond the gargoyle's post.

"The headmaster!" Fred exclaimed. "Please," he spoke imploringly to the gargoyle, "Give him any excuse so we don't get expelled, and I will come back for you, my dear!"

"Of course, my darling love!"

Fred blew the gargoyle a kiss for good measure, and the three took off down the corridor at a run.

After a brief waiting period in another of the twins' strategic hiding places to be sure the headmaster was dissuaded from pursuit by the smitten statue, the night continued with minimal caution and shenanigans galore. Rook's bond with the brothers was further established as she ran about the school alongside them, casting fishing lines into toilets and boldly boasting their prowess in the area of breathing by way of bagpipes located in a disused and long-banned band classroom. They only managed to evade Filch by slightly modifying the circumstances of the rules they broke. Fred placed a Silencing charm on the bagpipes, and George stunned a foul-smelling sickly green creature that had managed to drag its way out of the Hogwarts toilet with the help of their fishing line. Their night led them at last to the Astronomy Tower, where many activities were strictly forbidden. As Rook flew a kite shaped like the external reproductive organs of a human male, and George utilized his own such organs to urinate off the edge of the highest tower of Hogwarts castle, the three noted that they were indeed running out of time judging by the swift setting of the moon. It hardly mattered, though, as they were on their seventh rule: tobogganing down the spiral staircase of Astronomy Tower.

Most conveniently, Rook had stumbled upon a room full of illicit-looking items which had contained the fishing pole, the "tallywacker kite" (as Fred had referred to it), a traditional toboggan and and smaller, circular sled, which they now poised before the staircase.

"Going to make it snow first, Rook?"

"Why me?"

"It was your challenge originally, wasn't it?" explained Fred.

"Oh... Right, okay."

"Something wrong?" George asked.

Rook sighed. "I was waiting to tell y'all, but I didn't exactly transfer from another school. Actually, I didn't even know I had powers until this summer."

"You're joking!" Fred exclaimed.

"Wouldn't be very funny if I was."

"No, but... I mean, that's _weird._" Fred turned to George for confirmation. "It's weird, right?"

"I like weird," George grinned at Rook fondly. "You're about fifteen, right?"

"-Ish. And I know it's weird. That's just how it happened. No idea why. But, um... I may need help with this snow conjuring thing. All I've gotten to is the Aguamenti charm, but that was hard enough."

"No worries, Rook," said George encouragingly. "Here, it's not as difficult as it seems." George brought out his wand and Rook followed suit. He demonstrated a complicated wand movement and spoke the incantation, "_Niveimenti Maxima._"

A substantial burst of snow erupted from George's wand and flurried across the stairs. Rook copied George uncertainly, but only managed to turn her hair bright white. "Oh, puttanesca! What did I do?"

The twins laughed at her excessively, she thought. George recovered first. "It doesn't look half bad, actually. _Reparifarge._" Rook's hair returned to it's normal state. "There. Pretty as ever."

Fred stopped laughing abruptly. "I think you should have left it, but whatever. We don't have time for this, anyway. Here-" Fred took out his wand and demonstrated the Niveimenti charm slowly for Rook. "It has to be a wispy movement like this... Yes, that's right, light like snow."

Rook practiced the movements a few times and managed to perfect the incantation at Fred's direction after about a minute. Soon, the tower was lousy with snow through the combined efforts of all three of them.

"This is going to be noisy. Filch is on the other side of the castle, but Mrs. Norris is close enough that she's bound to hear us, so we have to be very quick."

Rook sat on the wooden toboggan, her breath forming a mist in the now freezing air. "I'm ready," she announced.

"After this," Fred strategized, "we need to run full tilt for the common-"

George jumped onto the back of the toboggan, grabbing Rook around the waist as he pushed them off down the staircase with his free arm. George and Rook hurtled over the thick snow and Rook tugged frantically at the reins of the toboggan, but was unable to avoid noisily scraping against the stone walls as they descended. George's arms reached around to help her maneuver the sharp turns and they accelerated steadily until they crashed at the bottom of the stairs, where the snow had thinned considerably. They fell forward clumsily. George caught himself on his forearm and managed to avoid crushing Rook as he landed.

"All right, Rook?" George asked, looking down at her on her back, his devilish brown eyes twinkling.

Rook righted herself hurriedly, unsure whether she was shaking from adrenaline or George's close proximity. "I-I think I get why that's against the rules."

"Because it's way too fun to be allowed?" he asked, sitting up and ruffling Rook's hair with both his hands, shaking out the accumulated snow. Rook scooped a handful of snow and dropped it onto George's head in turn.

Fred skidded to a halt on the landing, standing upright on the circular sled and expertly dashing snow onto George and Rook as he braked just short of their crash site. He stepped off of the sled and pulled Rook to her feet. "Time to run, folks."

Fred, George, and Rook took off, certain they had made enough noise by now to wake up the whole castle.

"No, no-this way!" Fred directed them. He stopped at a statue Rook recognized as the healer Gunhilda. He tapped the hump on her back with his wand and muttered a password that revealed a secret passageway. They clamored inside, Rook first, and fell silent in the darkness.

"_Lumos._"

Fred grinned. "Congratulations, mates! We did it!"


	8. Chapter VIII: Respite

With some clever navigation on Fred and George's part, the three miscreants made it back to Gryffindor Tower without incident. Fortunately, Fred had the foresight to find out the new password from Percy before their adventurous night had begun, and so they were able to relax for a couple of hours before their presence was required in the Great Hall for breakfast.

Although George assured Rook that sleeping for an hour would be worse than not sleeping at all, Rook insisted upon retiring to her dorm room, and shortly after watching Rook disappear up the staircase, Fred spoke. "So... You don't waste time, do you, mate?"

George grinned sheepishly. "Any reason I should?"

"I don't know. She's weird, right?"

George collapsed onto his back on one of the softer sofas and placed his arms comfortably behind his head. "She's unique, for sure. Don't tell me you're done for the night?"

"Ah!" Fred exclaimed. "Right you are!" Fred withdrew several whoopee cushions from the pocket of his robes, along with a handful of other novelties he had found in the muggle shops in their village. He inflated the whoopee cushions and began concealing them strategically about the common room. "But isn't 'unique' just a nice word for 'weird', anyway?" he persisted.

"I like weird. I've put up with you my whole life, haven't I?"

Fred looked up at his brother, a false Salvador Dali mustache now firmly affixed to his visage. "Whatever could you mean by that? _I_ obviously fall under the category of 'eccentric'."

George rolled his eyes. "Just a nice word for 'weird', then?"

"Sounds about right, yeah. Ron usually sits here, doesn't he?" George nodded and Fred arranged a handful of fake spiders in the various nooks of the squashy armchair. "It's just... It seemed like she was avoiding talking about her home and all. Not friends, not parents... Maybe a little about her alleged 'twin', but that's a little fishy too, isn't it? That she just happens to have one. Don't you think she's hiding something?"

"Come on, Fred, we just met her. There's a difference between hiding something and not telling us every detail of her home life. Have we told her how poor we are?"

"We told her we're related to Percy. That's as embarrassing as it gets."

"She's entitled to her privacy. And you can't act like you don't like her. I was in that broom closet too, you know."

"So what?" Fred snapped, causing George's eyebrows to raise insinuatingly.

"So... You told her you like her."

"Oh, don't look at me like that! It's nothing compared to all the flirting you were doing."

George shrugged dispassionately. "Whatever you say, Freddy." George had a faraway look on his face that Fred could not fathom. Fred always found this disconcerting. It was indeed a rare occurence, but the thing that really got to Fred was that he doubted it was a mutual occurence. Fred was fairly certain that George knew everything about him. George could often discern Fred's more convoluted thoughts and feelings before Fred himself. Furthermore, George knew when Fred did not know what he was thinking, and consistently apprised Fred of his inner musings in an attempt to alleviate the sensation of inadequacy he knew afflicted his brother.

And so Fred sat on the arm of Ron's favorite chair and watched his brother expectantly, hoping that he could correctly guess what George was thinking before he volunteered his thoughts to Fred, but knowing that he would not.

"Fred..." George spoke at last. "Do you remember when we were five and you had to stay home from our beach holiday?"

"What do you think the spiders are for, mate? I still can't believe I got punished for something I couldn't help."

"I know I told you this before, but I cried the whole trip, and when those dementors came into our compartment, I kept thinking about things like... like that time Aunt Muriel called us useless good-for-nothings in front of the entire family, and that time when mum cried because she couldn't afford the birthday gifts we wanted... and that trip, too. I felt that loneliness like I was five years old again. I couldn't even tell myself you were right behind me, and I started to panic.

"Then she grabbed my hand, and I suddenly remembered I wasn't alone. I just can't get over it; a stranger, taking my hand like that. I'm sure she was just scared. I'm sure she didn't know what it meant to me. Even so..."

Fred was back in the loop. If George had told him before about what had happened with Rook, he would have understood perfectly, and it bothered Fred that George had kept it to himself for so long.

"You really like her then, eh?"

"I've only said it a hundred times. You figure this one out yourself, Detective."


	9. Chapter IX: The Elder Crandall

Rook lay awake in her four poster bed where she had crept noiselessly and settled herself in spite of George's warnings. She listened to the sounds of her sleeping roommates and thought about the events of this evening. Her time with Olida and Sia had truly changed her. There was a time when the likes of Fred and George would have made her thoroughly uncomfortable. After the initial shock, however, George was actually quite gentle, and he put Rook at ease. His brother was another story. Fred was far more strident, and Rook was wary of him. Overall, though, they both made Rook laugh and they had succeeded in making Rook feel welcome at her new school.

But for all the twins' affability, Rook remained dismayed at Malerna's dismissal. She had a caustic wit, but something about her notably appealed to Rook, and she lost herself in thoughts of their first encounter the previous day...

Although Professor McGonagall had given Rook very specific instructions on how to get to Platform 9 3/4, Rook remained rather irresolute as she wandered the unfamiliar landscape of King's Cross. She thought she had located the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, but a number of concerns plagued Rook. If this was not the spot to which Professor McGonagall had been referring, she would look quite the fool attempting to run directly into the wall. Aside from how she would _look_, it would undoubtedly be painful and unpleasant for both her and Mahakala. In the end, Rook opted to do some patient observation before venturing forth. After all, she had arrived early in case of any complications, and it could not hurt.

The first perceptibly magical family Rook sighted consisted of a stately and aloof couple, each wearing a black cloak, and their two daughters. One of their daughters also wore a black cloak, but Rook's attention had focused on the other daughter, Malerna. She looked to be about fourteen or fifteen years old, with dark, silken hair that caught the sunlight like a raven's wings, full, pale pink lips, and sparkling blue eyes. Unlike the rest of her family, this girl wore muggle clothes, but the most odd assortment of muggle clothing Rook had ever seen, including a white men's vest over a black sports bra, long, black silk opera gloves, white American football pants, and black knee-high socks. To top it all, her navel was bare and sported a single silver stud.

They approached the barrier and Rook continued to stare at Malerna. She was inconspicuous enough to go unnoticed by most of the family, but Malerna had seemed to sense Rook's gaze and she found Rook in the crowd, watching from afar. Inexplicably, Malerna had smirked and turned to her family.

"You go on. I'll see you in a minute."

Malerna's parents eyed her suspiciously, but ultimately conceded, and Rook had the distinct impression that they had long since given up on arguing with Malerna over most things. As soon as her parents had disappeared into the seemingly solid barrier, Malerna caught Rook's eye once more and motioned her over. Rook obliged shyly, now avoiding Malerna's piercing gaze.

"Are you a muggle or something?" Malerna had asked, a touch of laughter in her voice.

"M-me? Uh... No, I'm a witch."

Malerna had a good laugh at this. "Don't sound too sure of yourself, do you? So you a foreigner?"

"Oi!" An extremely tall boy with fluffy, straw-colored hair and a long, pointed nose appeared behind Malerna and Rook and lost no time antagonizing Malerna. "Get a move on, Crandall! What are you gibbering on about here of all places? Making a scene!"

"If you want me to make a scene, I'll make a scene!" Malerna retorted promptly. "Just for that, I think I'll take my sweet time getting to the train!"

"Argue with a prefect, will you? And who's this you're corrupting before term has even started?"

"_'Corrupting'?! _Ooh, you better be careful, Hilliard, or I'll tell her about start of term, 1991!"

"As if you haven't told everyone already!"

"Robert, what are you- Ah! Hello Malerna!" A much shorter man with the same fluffy hair had caught up with them. He smiled genially and Malerna curtsied. "Shall we?"

"Of course, Mr. Hilliard. I was just telling your son here to get a move on, but he wanted to make a scene, as usual..."

Malerna had then taken it upon herself to show Rook through to the platform, onto the train, and into a seat right beside her own. She left to bid a final farewell to her parents on the platform, and Rook could just barely hear their exchange from where she sat.

"Who was that, Malerna? I do not believe I recognize her."

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not, so long as... She is... _pureblood_, is she not?"

"Oh, who cares, dad?" Malerna had replied, frowning. Her father grimaced, as if she had confirmed the worst.

"She doesn't look very_ clean_, Malerna," her mother added distastefully. "Did you see her hair? And she's so ugly..."

"_Ugly?!_ If you think she's ugly, I'm glad no one gave you license to set the standards!"

Before her parents could say more, Malerna stormed off. By the time she was back in the compartment with Rook, however, she looked to be in such good spirits, Rook was taken aback.

"Did you hear any of that?" she asked, her tone apologetic.

Rook nodded, blushing. At that moment she had felt as if she might cry, but she fought to hold it back.

"Oh, don't pay attention to them," said Malerna unconcernedly. "They're pretentious arses, the both of them."

"I-I'm sorry if I caused a problem."

"Oh, please... They are the source of all my problems. They're not too bright. They're obsessed with blood. So archaic, and proven to be a detriment to our species. But they think science is beneath them. Just as well. I'm conditioning them. Can't hardly bring them out in public saying things like that, can I?"

Rook laughed and was then irreversibly taken with Malerna.


End file.
